


all the lovers with no time for me

by Krewlak



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, In Character? I Don't Know Her, Prep School AU, Secret Crush AU, color me riverdale 2020, jeronica goes to stonewall, open as fuck ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24724114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krewlak/pseuds/Krewlak
Summary: jeroncia goes to stonewall. that's it. that's the fic.
Relationships: Jughead Jones/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 38
Kudos: 132
Collections: Color Me Riverdale





	1. RED - passion/power/anger/aggression

**Author's Note:**

> I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I AM DOING WITH THIS BUT I AM DOING IT. 
> 
> (don't i say that on nearly every fic now-a-days?)
> 
> but seriously. i wanted a prep school au. i wanted a i've-had-a-crush-on-you-this-whole-time au. this is what happened. do with it what you will.

Transferring to Stonewall at the last minute shocks everyone, most of all Veronica. It wasn’t something that she had planned but when she’s bombarded by photographers on school grounds, Mr Honey insists that she find an alternative schooling situation.

“It’s for the other student’s safety,” Mr. Honey explains to Veronica. He folds his hands together and leans forward. “I understand the situation with your family is difficult right now but I have to think of the school as a whole.”

“Are you expelling me?” Veronica asks through clenched teeth. She crosses her arms and leans back in the chair, raising an eyebrow. She tries her best to channel her mother’s iron glare but it doesn’t have the same effect coming from a sixteen year old. “Are you expelling me from Riverdale High during my senior year, Mr Honey?”

He sighs and leans back, mimicking her pose. He purses his lips and looks away from her for a moment. Veronica lets him gather his thoughts, let him form the right sentence to soften the blow. Finally he looks back at her with raised eyebrows and says, “Consider this a firm recommendation, Miss Lodge. And, of course, I’ll write a fine recommendation letter to whatever school you choose to transfer to.”

Veronica exhales loudly through her nose and stands up from the chair not bothering to say another word before marching out of the office. She gives up on the day entirely and ditches the rest of her classes. If she’s practically expelled then what was the point of sitting in class? She spends the rest of the day researching schools in the area and what a last minute transfer would do to her GPA. 

When she lands on Stonewall, the only person she tells is Betty. Archie is too focused on the rec center, on the kids that he’s trying to save, and she doesn’t want to add to his stress. Betty is a safe bet considering her family life has finally settled into something close to normal and all she can talk about anymore are her dates with Jughead. It’s almost dull, listening to her gush about the Friday nights they get to spend together after two years of investigations and death threats. 

“I have big news,” Veronica says, interrupting yet another tale of the romantic riverside dinner that Jughead had planned for the two of them. Betty’s mouth hangs open mid word but she gestures for Veronica to continue. “I’ve finally settled on where I’m transferring to.”

“Oh,” Betty says, face falling slightly. The story of Mr. Honey’s soft-expulsion had not gone over well with the core four - least of all Betty. “You know we can fight this, right? You don’t have to transfer.”

“I have enough on my plate with my parents separate trials and managing the speakeasy,” Veronica says with a sigh. They’ve had this conversation before but, clearly, Betty needed to have it again. “The last thing I need is a war at school as well but, luckily, the school I chose is only a short car ride from Riverdale.”

“Really?” Betty asks, still incredulous, still yearning for another battle to fight in. She might gush about the loveliness that is dating Jughead Jones but she can’t fool Veronica into thinking being average teenagers is enough for either of them. Veronica figured it would only be a matter of time before the quiet, solo rendezvous came to an end and a new mystery magically appeared before them. They were good at that, after all. 

“Stonewall Academy has a prestigious history in Midvale with quite the star studded alumni mailing list,” Veronica says with a smirk. “Business moguls, entrepreneurs, award winning authors and journalists have all called Stonewall Academy home at one point or another and soon Veronica Gomez will be making her appearance there.”

The color drains from Betty’s face and Veronica fears that she’s said something wrong. That the reality of Veronica transferring schools is more of a blow to Betty than she had first realized. Veronica reaches across the bed and takes Betty’s hand into her own, muttering, “Betty, you’re white as a sheet. What’s wrong?”

“Juggie is transferring there, too,” she mumbles softly. Veronica jerks back in shock. That was not what she was expecting. “He’s been talking about it all summer and they finally sent him a reply when the school year started.”

“He hasn’t said anything,” Veronica mumbles though it comes out as more of a question. She’s been so distracted the past few weeks that everything has been going in one ear and out the other. Though if Jughead had mentioned transferring schools she definitely would have made a mental note of such a detail. She tries to reign in her own fluctuating emotions and looks at Betty through her eyelashes. “Right?”

Betty sniffs loudly and looks up at the ceiling, her green eyes already filling with tears. Veronica scoots closer to the blonde, wrapping an arm around Betty’s shoulders and resting her cheek against Betty’s temple. Betty relaxes into Veronica’s side and she realizes just how tense the blonde had actually been. 

“He didn’t want to say anything in case he didn’t get in,” Betty mumbles. “But he did. Full ride and everything.”

“Has he accepted?” Veronica asks. There’s a small thrill that runs through her at the thought of the two of them at Stonewall together but Veronica squashes it. She doesn’t have time for that. 

“Of course,” Betty mumbles, rolling her eyes. “He’d be stupid to miss out on a chance like this.”

“And you’re okay with it?” Veronica asks, already knowing the answer. Betty huffs out a bitter laugh that Veronica laughs along with. “Stupid question, right? I mean, it didn’t go very well last time you two went to different schools.”

Betty pulls away from Veronica and looks at her with wide eyes. Veronica bites her bottom lip, grimacing a little. It probably wasn’t best to remind Betty of their on-again, off-again year of turmoil when Jughead had attended Southside High. 

“It won’t be like last time,” Betty insists. She sounds more like she’s convincing herself than Veronica. “We’re stronger now. Better than we were before.”

“Of course,” Veronica agrees quickly. She gives Betty a winning smile that feels like a total lie. “You’re total endgame material and a little distance isn’t going to change that.”

Betty sighs, a pleased smile spreading across her face. Veronica kisses Betty’s cheek loudly before getting up and going to her vanity. She had promised at home mani-pedis and fully intends on delivering. She ignores the voice that wonders just how this conversation got diverted to making Betty feel better about her relationship woes. The voice that whispers how this always seems to happen. None of that matters. As long as Betty is happy then Veronica can pretend to be happy as well. 

Telling the rest of the group goes about well as Veronica had expected. Silent acceptance from Jughead and loud indignation from Archie and Kevin. Betty backs her up, though, insisting that this is for the best. They all want an easy senior, after all, don’t they?

“But we’re supposed to graduate together,” Archie complains, leaning back into the booth seat. Veronica smiles fondly and kisses his cheek, looping her arm through his and holding onto his bicep. “It’s not going to be the same without you around, Ronnie.”

“Do you  _ know _ how tacky the halls of Riverdale High were before you graced us with your presence?” Kevin asks, leaning forward. “Do you have idea what this stupid high school called gossip before you showed up? I was drowning, Ronnie, and you saved me.”

“Maybe tone it down a notch, Kev?” Jughead mutters, rolling his eyes and finally chiming in on the conversation. “It’s not like she’s leaving town. Stonewall isn’t even that far away.”

“And how do you know where Stonewall is?” Archie asks, narrowing his eyes in accusation. 

Betty and Jughead share a look before they exhale in unison. Veronica leans into Archie a little more and bites the inside of her cheek. They’re holding hands when they turn back to the table and Jughead announces, “I’m transferring, too. To Stonewall.”

Betty gives Veronica a  _ look _ and she knows that Jughead has no idea that this isn’t brand new information to Veronica. She paints a pretty picture of shock onto her face. Jughead stares at her for a long minute though as Archie and Kevin start to complain even more. She can tell that he doesn’t really believe her or maybe he’s just thinking about their future at Stonewall as the only two from their group of friends. 

“Why is everyone ditching our  _ senior _ year,” Archie whines, leaning forward so that his forehead touches the table. His shoulder slump dramatically making Veronica laugh. She breaks eye contact with Jughead and leans over to kiss the back of Archie’s neck. Archie turns his head and looks at her with a slight pout. “What about homecoming and prom and senior week? We’re supposed to do all that stuff together. A normal school year for once, you know?”

“And we can still have all of that, Archiekins,” Veronica says softly, brushing Archie's hair away from his eyes. He’s in desperate need of a haircut but she kind of likes the shaggy look on him. “And it’s not like you’re going to be totally alone.”

“Yeah, Arch,” Betty says with a bright smile. She leans forward and ruffles Archie’s hair, letting go of Jughead entirely. “It’ll be like the old days, you know? Betty and Archie against them all.”

“Rude,” Kevin says, holding up a hand. “I was there the whole time, you know.”

“You know what I meant, Kev,” Betty replies, rolling her eyes. But her smile doesn’t dim and her hands stay stretched out towards Archie. Veronica watches with a sinking feeling in her stomach that she blames on how greasy the onion rings are today.

“Barchie rise,” Kevin replies with a fond smile, eyes flicking between Betty’s hands and the sweet smile on Archie’s face. He only realizes what he’s said a moment later judging by the way his eyes widen and he holds his hands up, looking between Jughead and Veronica. “Platonically, of course.”

“Of course,” Veronica repeats with a brittle smile. “Besties have to stick together, after all.”

Jughead doesn’t say anything at all and the topic shifts away from their impending transfer. But the greasy feeling in Veronica’s stomach doesn’t fade away and Jughead keeps catching her eye and Betty’s hands stay stretched out towards Archie.

Kevin, amazingly, is entirely oblivious to it all as he delves into the theme for the homecoming dance. 

Stonewall Prep is an entirely different beast than Riverdale High. It’s infinitely closer to walking the halls of Pelton in New York and Veronica can feel herself slipping back into old habits. Cruel comments and judging glances was her first language after all and only a couple of years of niceness is not long enough for Veronica to have entirely forgotten. It doesn’t help that her roommate, Donna Sweett, reminds her too much of her best frenemy from New York. 

“You should come to my book club,” Donna offers after Veronica has been at Stonewall for a few weeks. “Meet a few other like-minded people here at Stonewall. Have some intelligent discussion that goes beyond the latest gossip.”

“You’re part of a book club?” Veronica asks, not looking up from her homework. At least the workload at Stonewall seemed to live up to its reputation and she had to actually put effort into her schoolwork. For the first time since leaving New York, Veronica feels like an actual high school student instead of an adult stuck in a sixteen year old body. “That seems unlike you, Donna.”

“Fair assumption,” Donna replies, sitting on the corner of Veronica’s desk and covering her notebook with a hand. Veronica bites down the urge to smack her away and looks up at Donna through her lashes. “But we’re very particular about who we invite to join us. You’ve impressed Bret and me and that’s recommendation enough.”

Veronica does sneer this time. While she can tolerate Donna, Bret Weston Wallace is an entirely different creature. He’s far too much like Nick St. Clair for Veronica to ever truly let her guard down around him but his on-again, off-again relationship with Donna is enough to keep Veronica off of his radar. Or so she thought. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Donna says, rolling her eyes. “You two might have gotten into a bit of a tiff over Hemingway but that’s been long forgotten.”

“I wouldn’t call a screaming match a tiff, Donna,” Veronica replies with a sigh. She pulls her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose. “And if that little interaction is anything to go by, I can’t see what reason Bret would have to want me involved in this book club of yours. We couldn’t agree in class, why would we agree outside of class?”

“Bret has a soft spot for passionate debate,” Donna says with a shrug. There’s a hunger in her bright blue eyes that Veronica has seen before. It never bothered her but, now, Veronica finds herself feeling uneasy. “And while we adore our little band of intellectuals, it’s gotten a bit bland. We need to add some red to our ledger.”

“Red’s never been my color,” Veronica replies. She doesn’t mention that red on a ledger rarely means anything good. She’s sure that Donna knows that and used the phrase exactly like she wanted. 

The smile that Donna gives her is feral, cruel in the most delicious of ways, as she answers, “Ronnie-dear, red is  _ everyone’s _ color. Trust me on that.”


	2. ORANGE - confidence/anticipation/ignorance/deprivation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really just banking on the vibes carrying this fic. the plot? 100% making that shit up as i go.

Before Veronica even attends her first book club meeting, Jughead corners her in the library. They haven’t seen each other since transferring. They’re on different education paths - Veronica focusing entirely on business classes and Jughead focusing entirely on writing and journalism. Veronica has done her best to not look for him. This is a new start for them both and she’s sure that Jughead doesn’t need the reminder of him, the absence of Betty is sure to be enough for him. 

Besides, the last thing she needs is temptation while away from Archie and despite her better judgement that’s exactly what Jughead Jones tends to be for her. 

“You’re joining the book club?” Jughead asks with a glare as he steps up to her table. Veronica doesn’t look up from her research - she’d need to finish this business proposal before the end of the day and she’s already two pages behind schedule. “Veronica. Are you joining the book club or not?”

“What’s it matter to you?” Veronica replies with a huff. She looks at him over the rim of her glasses and notices the distinct lack of a beanie. Stonewall was a bit stricter than Riverdale when it came to uniforms but that doesn’t stop his tie from being sloppy and his blazer from being tied around his waist like a flannel. 

“I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t being fed bullshit by Bret,” Jughead says with a frown. He sits down opposite her without any invitation and despite her glare. He pushes her books out of the way so that he can lean forward on his elbows, eyes darting from side to side to make sure they aren’t being listened to. “Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

“Jughead,” Veronica says with a sigh. She can already sense where this conversation is going to go. “It’s a book club.”

“Do you know the name of this supposed _book_ club?” Jughead asks, ignoring her obvious derision. He doesn’t wait for her to say anything else before continuing. “The Quill and Skull Society. What do you think about that?”

“That Stonewall is more pretentious than I originally thought?” Veronica says, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. Jughead scoffs and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you part of this nefarious book club, Jughead?”

He blushes, bright pink spreading across his cheeks. Veronica tries to smother her smirk but Jughead sees it anyways, mouth turning down into a dramatic frown as he says, “Jonathan made me join. We’re roommates.”

“He _made_ you join?” Veronica asks, sounding particularly incredulous. “I thought the only person who could make Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third do anything has a blonde ponytail and doesn’t go to Stonewall. Speaking of - what does Betty think of the book club?”

“She doesn’t know,” Jughead mumbles, looking away from Veronica. 

That surprises her. She distinctly remembers Betty being insistent that her and Jughead didn’t keep secrets from each other anymore. They were _stronger_ now because of that, weren’t they? _This_ is exactly the kind of temptation that she’d been actively avoiding by not seeking Jughead out. She huffs and glares down at her books, whatever concentration that she’d had a moment before entirely gone. Veronica packs her stuff up, shoving her books into her bag and standing up from the table. 

“Where are you going?” Jughead asks, looking up at her. “We need to talk about this book club.”

“What is there to talk about Jughead?” Veronica asks with a sigh. “It’s a book club and I have other things to worry about!”

Jughead gets up from the table and grips her elbow, dragging her into a secluded corner. Veronica groans which earns her a glare from Jughead. It catches her off guard being this close to him. She doesn’t think she’s ever had the chance to see just how green his eyes actually are. She’d always thought they’d looked more blue. 

“I think it’s more than just a book club,” Jughead hisses into her ear, eyes jerking around them. His hand is hot on her elbow even through the fabric of her blazer. She knows that she should pull away, that she should put some distance between them, but she can’t move her feet. “It’s some sort of secret society - they have an initiation and everything.”

“You really have no idea how the upper class behaves, do you?” Veronica asks, trying her best to sound bored by his conspiracy theory. “Everything is a tradition, Jughead. If this is how it’s been happening since the beginning then they certainly aren’t going to change anything. Have you even gone through this initiation yet?”

“No,” Jughead mumbles with a slight pout. “Jonathan says that it’ll happen at the end of the week when everyone has their candidate picked out.”

“Then how can you say that something evil is happening here?” Veronica asks with raised eyebrows. That blush spreads across his cheeks again and Veronica’s stomach fills up with butterflies. “I know you’re used to there always being a mystery to solve but, bear with me here, maybe this is just a book club and Stonewall is just a school.”

Jughead’s mouth puckers like he sucked on something sour. It’s all the confirmation that Veronica needs to know that he’s already had this conversation with himself. Veronica’s sure it’s just homesickness eating at him, the need for something familiar amongst all of the strange. She gives him a small smile, patting his shoulder in as friendly a manner as she can, before gliding past him and out of the library. 

On Friday night, Donna ditches the uniform for a pair of jeans and a plain button up, tied at the waist. She insists that the book club is a dressed down affair but that doesn’t stop her from smearing on a red lipstick that would make Cheryl Blossom jealous. Veronica takes a page out of Donna’s book and forgoes a skirt for wide legged slacks and a tucked in t-shirt. 

“Don’t worry,” Donna says as they walk towards the lounge where the book club meetings are held. She loops her arms through the crook of Veronica’s elbow, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. “No one bites and, even if they did, I have a feeling that Veronica Gomez could handle it.”

“Do I give off the impression of someone who’s nervous or something?” Veronica asks, looking at Donna out of the corner of her eye. “Trust me, Donna, Veronica Gomez laughs in the face of anyone who dares to threaten her.”

“Has someone threatened you?” Donna asks. There’s the hint of speculation in her voice but Veronica gets the feeling that Donna is perfectly aware of what Veronica went through in Riverdale. “Stonewall doesn’t tolerate bullying.”

Veronica laughs, hand at her throat and eyes squeezed shut. Donna laughs along with her but it sounds fake as if she doesn’t get the joke but doesn’t want to seem stupid for not laughing. The thought drowns whatever mirth Veronica had been feeling as they walk into the lounge. There’s a group of ten people milling around the room but Veronica’s eyes are drawn directly to a familiar beanie lurking in the corner. 

Of course, Donna notices, “Do you know Forsythe?”

“Forsythe?” Veronica replies. No one uses his real name other than her and even then she only uses it when she’s teasing. The way his name rolls off of Donna’s tongue makes Veronica feel uneasy. “We went to Riverdale together.”

“Figured the transfers would know each other,” Donna says with a hint of disappointment. She tightens her hold on Veronica’s bicep and pulls her towards Jughead. “Let’s go say hello, shall we?”

Veronica opens her mouth to say something, to avoid the interaction entirely. He’s out of uniform, back in his usual S shirt and flannel, and the ever-familiar thrum of temptation runs through her. Veronica tries to swallow the lump in her throat and misses the comfortable buffer that had been Betty and Archie. 

“Forsythe,” Donna greets, eyeing his outfit with distaste. Jughead frowns at Donna and the expression deepens when he turns to look at Veronica. “I hear you already know Veronica.”

“Donna,” Jughead mumbles in greeting. “Any idea when Bret is going to get this whole thing rolling?”

“So impatient,” Donna hums. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and scans the lounge again. “It seems like everyone is ready. Shouldn’t be long now before we do the drawing.”

“There’s a drawing?” Veronica asks, raising an eyebrow. “Are there door prizes at this little book club?”

Donna throws her head back as she laughs. Veronica frowns. It wasn’t that funny of a joke - not even a joke at all if she’s being honest. Jughead’s glower darkens a little and Veronica wonders just how well he knows her roommate. There’s a familiarity in his gaze and Donna seems to know just how to get under his skin. It’s a skill that Veronica thought she was the lone master of. 

“The drawing isn’t for door prizes, Ronnie-dear,” Donna says, reaching out to tuck a strand of Veronica’s hair behind her ear. “It’s for membership. There are only two available spots this year, after all.”

“So selective,” Veronica mumbles, glancing at Jughead again. Her eyes keep going back to him but it doesn’t seem like he notices. He’s too busy watching Donna for whatever it is he thinks she’s guilty of. “Care to explain the rules of this so-called drawing?”

“Bret will explain everything when the time is right,” Donna says with a satisfied smile. “I think it’s time for a few drinks though, don’t you?”

“Stonewall is a dry campus,” Jughead interjects needlessly. 

“You’re adorable,” Donna says, lips curling up into a cupie doll smile. “I can see why Jonathan nominated you.”

Jughead doesn’t get the chance to say anything back before she’s waltzing away, leaving Veronica alone with him. The silence between them is thick. Veronica can practically taste it on her tongue. Or maybe it’s the anticipation of the night to come. She isn’t sure. She’s tempted to just walk away and leave him to his brooding but he touches her waist ever so slightly and she’s lost to temptation again. 

“Are you sure about this?” Jughead mumbles into her hair. She can feel the heat coming off of him in waves. Was he always this warm? How did Betty go without being burned alive every time she curled into his side? “I know you don’t believe me but these kids are dangerous, Veronica.”

“These kids are the same type of kids I ran with in New York,” Veronica says, faking confidence in the way that only a Lodge knows how. She licks her lips and tries to calm the pounding of her heart, curls her hands into fists against her hips instead of reaching up to grip the collar of his flannel. She feels wild at Stonewall and she’s not sure if the lack of their better halves or if this part of her was always aching to be set free. “I can handle myself around them, Jones. You, however, I’m not so sure about.”

Jughead raises his eyebrows and tilts his head so that she can see his face a little better. The arrogant smirk that had been on his face so much that first year he joined the Serpents is back and he reaches up to tug off his beanie. His hair falls into his eyes and gives him an entirely different look, one that she can appreciate just as much as his usual trailer park attire. 

“You’re not the only one who grew up in a den of snakes, Lodge,” Jughead mumbles, voice rumbling against her ears. “I’ve been handling myself just fine without you.”

“Forsythe,” a familiar voice calls from behind Veronica. They both turn at the same time to see Bret striding their way with a pleasant smirk on his face and Donna hanging off his arm. “And Veronica. Donna was just saying how you two already knew each other.”

“Bret,” Jughead greets with a stiff nod. 

“Wallis,” Veronica replies, turning her back on Jughead and crossing her arms. “Lovely little club you have here.”

“You haven’t even seen the best of it yet,” Bret replies. His eyes glance right over Veronica as if their screaming match from the week before hadn’t even happened. Instead, he’s looking at Jughead with the same hunger that she’s seen on Donna’s face a million times since starting at Stonewall. Veronica doesn’t like it. “How are you liking the evening so far, Forsythe? Hope you aren’t too bored.”

“Veronica's been stimulating company I’m sure,” Donna murmurs, eyes dancing between Veronica and Jughead. “She seems like the type to keep a man’s attention, doesn’t she Bret?”

“Depends on the kind of man,” Bret replies with a dismissive smirk thrown in Veronica’s direction. “Gomez, I see you’ve settled in at Stonewall well. Our little debate hasn’t scared you back to that small town you were living in.”

“Of course not, Wallis,” Veronica says with a smile that certainly does not reach her eyes. Jughead steps forward into her back, pressing a knuckle into the curve of her spine. It’s a warning that she blatantly ignores. “I’m sure even someone like you can realize that Gomez women are made of sterner stuff. A volley of words isn’t enough to scare me away.”

Bret inhales sharply, nostrils flaring, and the easy smile dropping off of his face. Donna’s grip on his arm tightens slightly, a warning of her own that Bret seems content to ignore. Veronica stands up a little straighter and leans back into Jughead a little more, her heel driving into the toe of his sneaker when he dares to pinch her back. Bret opens his mouth to say something but a gong rings out through the room cutting him off. 

“The drawing is about to begin!” a small Asian girl calls out to the room. “Members, gather your nominations and come to the center of the room.”

“Joan loves this part,” Donna says with a wink as she steps away from Bret to grab Veronica’s hand, dragging her towards the center of the room. “She’s always been a stickler for tradition.”

“Fascinating,” Veronica mumbles. She pushes down the urge to look over her shoulder to see if Jughead and Bret are following. “You never explained what exactly the drawing is.”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Donna says with a shrug. “You draw and if you’re lucky you get to join. It’s kind of silly, in the end, but we’re nothing without our traditions.”

Joan is walking around the room with a large opaque vase. Each nomination, as Joan had called them, reaches into the jar and pulls out a smooth stone. They all seem to be the same size and shape though the color varies between the school colors of blue and green. Jughead sneaks up behind Donna and Veronica, reaching over Veronica’s shoulder to reach into the jar when Joan pauses in front of them. Veronica follows suit a moment later. 

Both of their stones are orange.

Donna smiles brightly, eyes sparkling as she looks between Jughead and Veronica and congratulates them, “Welcome to the Quill and Skull.”


	3. YELLOW - warmth/joyfulness/caution/deception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this chapter (actually this entire fic) is sitting in this weird place between good and bad. it just keeps teeter-tottering between the two and i don't know how to deal with it.

“You know,” Veronica says as she walks across campus with Jughead. “The whole drawing thing wasn’t nearly as bad you made it out to be.”

“That’s just step one of the initiation,” Jughead says with a sigh. “The next step is the part that I’m nervous about. You know kids have died during this whole thing?”

Veronica glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He’d been the one to seek her out again a few days after the drawing. The book club had welcomed them with open arms and drinks and laughter. It hadn’t been all that bad as far as Veronica was concerned and Donna hadn’t said anything about a second part to the initiation. 

“That seems a bit dramatic,” Veronica says after a long minute of silence. “Though I’m assuming that you have evidence to support your theory of the evil book club?”

“Naturally,” Jughead says with a casual shrug that Veronica doesn’t buy in the least. He scratches the bridge of his nose and looks at Veronica out of the corner of his eye. “You could come by my room and I’ll show you the death reports that I’ve managed to dig up.”

Veronica stops walking, hands clutching her books a little tighter to her chest. Jughead goes forward a couple of steps before realizing that she’s not next to him anymore. He turns to her with raised eyebrows and a frown, concern all over his face. Veronica doesn’t like having that look directed her way. It’s just as outside of the natural order of things as Jughead’s invitation to review his evidence. 

“What’s wrong?” Jughead asks, lowering his voice and reaching a hand out towards her. Veronica jerks back so that he can’t touch her. “Veronica?”

“Have you talked to Betty about all of this?” she asks, forcing the words out. They don’t talk about Riverdale, it’s an unspoken rule between them even if they barely talk to each other at all. “What does she think about your conspiracy theory?”

Jughead looks away from her, running a hand through his loose hair. He needs a haircut and a few days in the sun. He’s looking more ragged than usual and Veronica has to squash whatever worry she might be feeling for him. It’s their senior year and, despite the drama of transferring schools, they should be worrying about finals and parties, not another mystery to unravel. 

“Betty doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Jughead says finally. “This is about this school and keeping you safe.”

“Keeping _me_ safe?” Veronica asks, incredulous. Jughead nods like it’s the most obvious thing. Veronica scoffs. “Not every woman in your immediate sphere needs protection, Jones. Worry about yourself.”

“I am worrying about myself,” Jughead insists. “Why do you think I even started digging in the first place?”

“Because you’re bored and have a persecution complex?” Veronica answers, schooling her face into the picture of innocence. Jughead rolls his eyes and Veronica decides to keep pushing. It’s good for both them, this dose of reality that she’s pouring out. “Because you miss your girlfriend and would rather delve into a new mystery instead of worry about her.”

“What is there to worry about when it comes to Betty?” Jughead asks, narrowing his eyes at her. “She’s fine. Right?”

“She’s your girlfriend,” Veronica groans. “You should know the answer to that.”

“And she’s your best friend,” Jughead fires back. “If there’s something going on that she can’t talk to me about, she’d tell _you_.”

“You’re changing the subject,” Veronica says with a huff. The bell for classes rings out through the courtyard but neither of them moves. “We aren’t talking about Betty. We’re talking about you and your conspiracy theories!”

“I told you that I have proof! There is a conspiracy going on here and we aren’t safe!” Jughead shouts back. They’re lucky that the courtyard is empty. Veronica’s sure that they’re creating quite the scene. “You’re the one who isn’t listening to me!”

“Because I don’t want to!” Veronica snaps. “I don’t want to be involved in your mysteries. I don’t want to be anything other than just a student this year! I’m not Betty!”

Jughead jerks back with wide eyes, mouth falling open in shock. Her chest is heaving and her cheeks feel warm but the words are out now, there’s no taking them back. Ever since he cornered her in the library, Veronica has had the nagging feeling that Jughead was looking for something in her. Something that she can’t give him, that she won’t give him for her own sanity. Veronica inhales sharply and looks away from him, choking down the anxiety that’s crawling up her throat. 

“I’m not Betty,” Veronica repeats. “So stop treating me like her.”

She doesn’t give Jughead the chance to say anything else before marching away. He doesn’t follow her which doesn’t surprise her in the least. Jughead Jones is looking for a partner and there’s a part of her that yearns to take him up on his offer. But she has her pride and she’s sacrificed enough of that since moving to Riverdale. 

She doesn’t see Jughead for the rest of the week but she does get to know the rest of the book club. Donna was right when she said it was a small group. There’s only five of them - Bret Weston Wallis, Donna Sweett, Joan Berkley, Jonathan Chipping, and Francis DuPont. Bret and Donna clearly run the show - they guide the discussions, plan the parties, choose the books, and decide the pace. The rest of them don’t seem to mind, following along happily enough and trying to garner whatever favor they can with their leaders. 

Veronica isn’t quite sure why Donna thought to invite her to join. She’s not a follower, not a simpering smiler or a suck up the way that the rest of the club is. But they welcome her with open arms none-the-less. They delight at her stories from New York, gasp appropriately at her stories from Riverdale, and boost her ego in a way that only Kevin had managed to do since she left Pelton. It's, in a twisted and desperate way, fun. She’s happy amongst these intelligent creatures that value her wit more than her wallet. 

“Gather round,” Joan says, during one of their hangouts in Bret’s dorm room. She’s perched delicately on his desk, legs crossed at the ankles, while everyone else finds random spots to sit on. “It’s two truths and one lie time.”

Veronica groans and rolls her eyes as she leans against Bret’s bookshelf. How he managed to snag a room without a roommate is still a mystery to her though she assumes it has something to do with being a Wallis. Jonathan and Francis find spots on the floor while Bret and Donna stay curled around each other on the bed. It feels like a sleepover almost but the smile that Bret and Donna share dashes that notion quickly. 

“Aren’t there supposed to be drinks involved in two truths, one lie?” Veronica asks, trying her best to be a good sport. Jughead’s warnings sneak into her head but she pushes them away. She doesn’t have the mental space for Jughead Jones right now. “Shots? Beer? Something?”

“Not here,” Joan says with a slight frown. She sits up a little straighter and gives Veronica a dry look. “It’s part of your initiation, actually. Baring your soul to your fellow club members. It brings us closer together.”

“It sounds like assured mutual destruction,” Veronica replies, mimicking Joan’s look. “If you tell on me then I can tell on you, sort of a thing.”

“I told you that Veronica was the best of the new recruits,” Donna says with a laugh from the bed. “Start us off, Joan.”

“I’ll start with something easy,” Joan says with a smirk. “I’ve been a black belt since the fourth grade. My favorite color is yellow. And I once spent three days alone in New York a la _Home Alone_.”

“Veronica?” Bret asks, raising his eyebrows at her. “You’re the newbie. Tell us which one was the lie.”

Veronica sighs and examines Joan’s face. She hadn’t been paying close enough attention to her answers but the idea of Joan Berkley running around New York like a wild child is laughable. Veronica says as much and the whole room laughs, Joan included. 

“Actually, my favorite color is green,” Joan says with a shrug. “I was a bit of a wild child in middle school.”

“Color me impressed, Joanie,” Veronica says with a nod. “I never would have guessed.”

Joan pushes her glasses up her nose, sniffing a little, as Jonathan goes next. They go through three rounds of boring truths and even more boring lies before Bret sits up with a smirk on his face. The vibe in the room subtly changes and Veronica straightens her spine a little. The rest of the group seem to know what’s coming but it doesn’t prepare Veronica for what comes out of Bret’s mouth, “I murdered my babysitter when I was twelve. I haven’t felt an emotion since I was six. I collect animal bones for fun.”

Veronica forces out an awkward laugh, looking around the room for some sign of the joke. Everyone is serious, eyes boring into Veronica, waiting for her answer. She exhales slowly and licks her lips, letting her mind settle before she answers, “The thing about emotions. I call bull.”

Bret smirks and it makes Veronica feel squeamish which is no easy feat. But she doesn’t back down from his green eyes and wide mouth. She can bluff like the rest of them, better than the rest of them even if the situation calls for it. Veronica has the feeling that it most desperately calls for it right now. 

“Very good. Donna?”

Donna doesn’t look Veronica in the eye when she lists her three, “I started an affair with a teacher for blackmail purposes. I’m at Stonewall on a scholarship. I’ve killed every single one of my little sister’s pets.”

“The pets.”

“Correct again, Ronnie-dear,” Donna mumbles, though the nickname lacks any sort of affection. “Joan?”

“I framed my first roommate in the doping scandal that got half of the track and field team expelled. I watched my mother kill herself. When my father asked me about it, I lied about where I was when it happened,” she lists off in a curt monotone. 

“You never saw your mother kill herself,” Veronica says.

“Then how could I lie about where I was when it happened?” Joan asks, narrowing her eyes. 

“You told him you were there when really you weren’t,” Veronica replies quickly. Joan’s eyes widen a fraction but it doesn’t last long before Jonathan lists his own. 

“I let the wrestling team duct tape one of the freshmen to save my own skin. I’ve never taken a test that I haven’t cheated on. I’ve been on T since I was twelve,” he says in a rush. He’s not making eye contact with her either, seeming nervous to be spouting these truths in front of Veronica. She can tell that he’s the weakest link in the bunch but she’s not sure just how weak that link actually is. 

“You’re not on the wrestling team,” Veronica says, though it's the first one that she’s not totally confident about. 

“Aren’t you a progressive by not assuming Jonathan being trans is the lie,” Bret says with that same cold smirk that Veronica is growing to hate more and more. “You’re too good at this game, Gomez.”

“Shouldn’t Jughead be here for this?” Veronica asks, keeping her eyes on Bret. He’s the de-facto leader and she wants to know how he’s going to react. Clearly the club is full of sociopaths but they’re all under Bret’s thumb. “Since this is part of the initiation.”

“Forsythe will have his moment to shine,” Bret says, waving his hand dismissively. He nods at Francis. “Your turn.”

Francis sighs and rubs at his left eye before answering, “I consumed my twin in the womb. My family kept my grandmother’s corpse in the family chapel - changed her clothes, talked to her, the whole thing. My parents are adoptive siblings and I’m pretty sure they’re planning the same thing for me.”

“Woah,” Veronica says, jerking back. “That is a lot to unpack.”

“Old money,” Francis says with a shrug. “What’s your answer, Gomez?”

Veronica bites her lip as she thinks. Bret is watching her closely, probably waiting for her to fail. Not that they discussed what would happen if she were to guess wrong. She can’t falter, either way. 

“The whole corpse thing?” she says with an uncertain grimace. The group smirks at each other and Veronica thinks she might have gotten it wrong finally. 

“Your turn, Gomez,” Bret says, finally breaking the silence. Veronica lets out the breath that she’d been holding and relaxes against the bookcase. “Share your darkest secrets.”

The first one comes to her mind easily, “My parents put a hit out on the boy who tried to rape me.”

“Dark,” Donna says with that feral grin of hers. “I like it.”

“Shut up, Donna,” Bret snaps, sitting up and leaning towards Veronica with hungry eyes. “Keep going.”

Veronica lets out a slow breath and licks her lips before saying, “I bullied a girl to suicide at my old school but her parents weren’t as rich as mine so I didn’t get into trouble for it.”

She must pause for too long because Bret slides to the edge of the bed and hisses, “More.”

The tension in the room intensifies. Bret reminds her of a hungry beast, salivating at the smell of blood in the air. She looks down at her shoes when she says her final, pathetic truth, “I’m in love with my best friend’s boyfriend even though I’m dating the boy she’s loved her entire life.”

Bret laughs out loud at that, head thrown back and throat throbbing. It fills the room and crawls over Veronica’s skin like a net. She feels trapped but it’s her own damn fault for not listening to Jughead to begin with. He’d warned her and she’d pushed him away. She’s never felt so stupid before. 

“The love thing,” Joan announces through Bret’s laughter. “It’s too soft. There’s no way that’s true.”

“You’re a moron, Joan,” Bret says, smiling brightly at Veronica. “That’s the most honest thing Veronica has ever said to us.”

“Then what’s the lie?” Donna asks, watching Bret with wide and worshipful eyes. 

Bret’s smirk comes back into play as he eyes Veronica up and down as he answers, “There isn’t one. All three are true, aren’t they Veronica?” 

She nods and he laughs again as he stands up. He tilts her head up, making her look at him with a finger under her chin. A chill runs down her spine. His hand moves along her jaw until it’s resting gently against her neck as he says, “You’re going to fit in just fine, Veronica _Lodge_. Just fine, indeed.”


	4. GREEN - wealth/acceptance/fear/jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL. i really like this chapter and i really like writing a pining veronica.

“They’re all sociopaths,” Veronica hisses into Jughead’s ear as she sits next to him in the auditorium. They’re in the back row, far enough away that no one else could overhear them. “Every single one of them.”

“And you fit in just fine, don’t you?” Jughead mumbles. “Why are you telling me?”

“Who else am I going to tell?” Veronica replies. It’s the closest that she’s going to get to admitting that he was right and she was wrong. Jughead shrugs in acceptance of her unsaid apology. “You missed two truths, one lie last night.”

“I wasn’t exactly invited to that little shindig,” Jughead says. The headmaster comes on stage to give the morning announcements but Veronica tunes him out. “If you haven’t noticed, they aren’t the most welcoming bunch.”

“Speak for yourself,” Veronica says. “They were more than willing to welcome me with open arms and confessions of murder.”

“What?” Jughead practically shouts, turning to glare at her. A few teachers shush them but Jughead barely seems to notice. “Why the fuck didn’t you lead with that?”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” Veronica hisses back. She jerks on his arm until he’s slunk down in the chair again and facing forward. “You’re drawing attention. Sit down.”

“We should go to the cops,” Jughead says, crossing his arms and glaring at the headmaster on the stage. 

“With what? My word against theirs?” Veronica says with a sneer. Jughead blushes a little and her stomach flips over. It’s a stupid reaction and an equally stupid feeling. “Since when have you ever gone to the police for anything?”

“Murder generally involves going to the police,” Jughead snaps. “Or have you forgotten that little fact of life?”

“If I had known you were suddenly going to try and be all goody-two-shoes about this I would have just kept my mouth shut,” Veronica grumbles.

“And what exactly did you think I was going to do?” Jughead says. He’s making a show of looking unbothered by her but Veronica knows better. “Didn’t you say that you weren’t going to get pulled into any of my conspiracy theories?”

“Bret knows my real name,” Veronica says slowly. She’s gone by Gomez ever since starting at Stonewall, kept her life in Riverdale to vague facts and avoided talking about New York. She knows the weight that the Lodge name carries amongst the elites of the world and she doesn’t want it dragging her down. “He knows that I’m a Lodge, Jughead.”

“I told you,” Jughead says, leaning towards her. “There’s something going on here that they don’t want us to know.”

“Well, let’s find out what it is,” Veronica says with a shrug. “Easy, right?”

Jughead rolls his eyes but there’s a fondness there that she likes. They’re closer than they should be, neither of them moving away. She likes that, too. 

“Come by room,” Jughead finally says, extending the same invitation again. “We can go over what I’ve found. Compare it to what you’ve learned. See what our next moves should be.”

“Sounds boring,” Veronica replies. Her eyes dart around his face, marking his moles, the darkness beneath his eyes, the chappedness of his lips. She’ll always be confused by her attraction to him. There’s nothing special to his face, not like Archie, not like any of the other guys she’s dated. 

“The first part of any investigation is research,” Jughead says, leaning back in his chair. Veronica does the same, wondering if her cheeks are flushed, if her pupils are dilated. He’s been training himself to be observant for years now, she wonders if he can notice these tell-tale signs of attraction on her face. “It’s not always chasing murderers down in the pouring rain.”

“Says the boy who fell through a window while chasing a Gargoyle,” Veronica replies. “Remind me again of all the times you went rushing in without any proof?”

“As soon as you remind me of how many times I ended up being right,” Jughead replies without looking at her. They sit in silence during the rest of the assembly, eyes facing forward and arms crossed over their stomachs. Once the headmaster has left the stage, Jughead turns to her. “Meet me in my room after classes. Jonathan has water polo practice so we won’t be bothered.”

Veronica doesn’t get a chance to answer back before Jughead climbs over the back of the auditorium seat and disappears into the throng of students. Veronica gives it a few moments, until the auditorium is almost entirely empty, before she leaves as well.

Jonathan is, as promised, not around when Veronica knocks on Jughead’s door later. He doesn’t even get up, just waves her into the room while shoving half a burger into his mouth. Veronica notices the distinct logo of a Pop’s to-go bag and raises her eyebrows at him. He has the decency to finish chewing before speaking, “Betty made an impromptu lunch visit.”

“Cute,” Veronica says, swallowing down the hot rush of jealousy. She’s not sure if the jealousy is inspired by yet another reminder of Jughead and Betty’s  _ perfect _ romance or that she hasn’t seen her bestie since she started at Stonewall. “And how is our favorite blonde?”

Something dark flashes across Jughead’s face for the briefest of moments before he shuts his face down. He just shrugs in response before taking a long slurp from his milkshake. Veronica rolls her eyes and sits down on the edge of his bed, fingers digging into the messy sheets. Jughead actively avoids looking at her, mumbling, “Betty’s fine but that’s not why you’re here.”

“No, it most certainly is not,” Veronica agrees. She crosses her legs at the knee and leans forward, elbow digging into her knee and chin resting on the heel of her hand. “So what’s the what, Detective Poirot? Where’s your evidence?”

“Shut the door first,” Jughead says as he opens a desk drawer. Veronica huffs in irritation but does as asked before going over to the desk to hover just behind his chair. The manila folder that Jughead lays out on his desk is thick with news articles and print outs. Veronica assumes that having Jonathan as a roommate is the only reason why it hasn’t been turned into a murder board. “Like I said, this club has a death count.”

“Define death count,” Veronica says as she leans over his shoulder to read the article on the top. 

It’s about a boating trip gone wrong - a tragic accident with the body of club president Victor Morganstone washing up on shore a few days later. Veronica knows the Morganstone name - they went to the same yacht club as her parents. She’d never met Victor but she knew his sister, a thin wisp of a girl who never said a word. The whole thing reminds her too much of the Blossoms. 

“Almost one death every year since the club’s inception,” Jughead says with a sigh. “Always labelled an accident or a suicide or just not investigated at all.”

“Money talks,” Veronica says with a nod. She’s close enough to him that she can smell his cheap aftershave. It’s not that bad, minty and musky all at the same time. She inhales sharply to memorize the smell. “The question is: did the club members do it themselves or is there something else going on at this school?”

“Exactly,” Jughead says, leaning back in his chair. His cheek brushes against hers but neither of them pull away as he glances at her out of the corner of his eye. “There’s got to be a secret room or something where they keep their records.”

“I assume you’ve already torn apart the lounge?” Veronica asks, voice lowering to something closer to a whisper. Jughead nods, a strand of hair falling into his eyes. He’s not wearing his beanie again. He’s been wearing it less and less the longer they’ve been at Stonewall. “I suppose we start tossing rooms then.”

“I’ve already gone through Jonathan’s stuff,” Jughead says, voice also lowered to something closer to a whisper. “He doesn’t have anything. He’s pretty low on the totem pole, though. Donna on the other hand. . .”

“Donna is Bret’s right hand man,” Veronica finishes for him. Veronica reaches forward to sift through the articles again. She needs something to do with her hands so that she doesn’t reach out to touch Jughead’s hair or something equally as stupid. “She’s bound to have something, right?”

Jughead reaches forward and grips Veronica’s fingers, turning in his seat to look at her properly. Veronica exhales softly, heart pounding in her chest. They’re close enough to kiss and she hates herself for thinking that when there are literal murders on the plate. He doesn’t let go of her hand, doesn’t seem to remember that he grabbed it in the first place. He just watches her with those concerned sea green eyes that she loves so much. 

“I don’t want you taking any risks, Veronica,” he says after a tense moment. “You said it yourself: these people are psychos.”

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about me, Jughead,” Veronica says with as flippant a tone as she can manage. She runs her thumb over his knuckles without thinking. “I’m a big girl. I can handle a little snooping.”

“Veronica,” Jughead says, mouth opening and closing as he tries to figure out whatever it is that he wants to say to her. “I just . . .”

He never finishes the sentence. A knock on the door has the two of them pulling away from each other with pink cheeks and averted eyes. Veronica runs her palms over her skirt as Jughead goes to answer the door. She knows she’s going to obsess over this entire exchange for the next week. There’s no way for her to avoid it, to pretend it didn’t happen when his closeness is seared into her brain. It’s the hot tub kiss all over again. 

“Forsythe, I come bearing libations,” Donna says from the other side of the door. Veronica feels a shiver go through her. How long had Donna been creeping on the other side of the door? Did she hear anything? Did she know that Veronic was here? Veronica is quick to put away Jughead’s folder of evidence, going so far as to tuck it under his mattress instead of the desk drawer he’d pulled it out of. “Mind if I come in?”

“Sure,” Jughead says, sounding slightly stunned. Veronica doesn’t know if he’s still reeling from their moment or if it’s Donna extending an olive branch that’s throwing him off. “Veronica’s in here, too, by the way.”

“The more the merrier,” Donna says as she steps into the room holding a bottle. She raises her eyebrows at Veronica, mouth curling into her cupie doll smile. “What were you two up to?”

“Jughead was going over one of my papers,” Veronica says with a put-upon sigh. “I can’t handle getting anything less than an A two papers in a row. I’m pretty sure I’ll snap if I do.”

“Well isn’t that magnanimous of you, Forsythe?” Donna says as Jughead brushes past her. She holds up the wine bottle. “Shall we celebrate?”

“I’m not much of a drinker,” Jughead mumbles. He glances at Veronica and scratches the bridge of his nose. “But don’t let me stop you two.”

“Come on, Jughead,” Veronica needles. She raises her eyebrows at him and takes the bottle from Donna. She sips from it, enjoying the thick flavor of the red as it slides down her throat. She licks her lips and holds the bottle out to Jughead. Her back is to Donna so she’s able to give him a  _ look _ \- a silent communication to cover their asses and act like nothing is wrong. “It’s senior year. Have some fun.”

How easily he slips on that cocky smirk of his catches her off guard. She knows that he’s slowly been getting better at controlling his face but she hadn’t realized that he was this good. She passes him the bottle, hands brushing against each other for the briefest of moments with a surge of electricity. He takes a long drink as Donna cheers, “That’s the spirit, Forsythe. About time you relaxed a bit.”

“Very funny, Donna,” Jughead mumbles, his eyes already drooping a little. Veronica drinks from the bottle again, longer and deeper this time. Her limbs already feel loose and heavy. She’s no lightweight but this wine seems to be hitting her like a ton of bricks. Jughead sways in front of her for a moment before falling back into his desk chair with a heavy thump. “I need to sit.”

“You are sitting, Forsythe,” Donna says with a laugh. She takes the bottle from Veronica and raises an eyebrow at her. “Don’t tell me you’re a lightweight as well?”

Veronica scoffs, “Hardly.”

But a moment later, her own head gets light and she needs to sit down. The room is blurring and it’s getting hard to keep her eyes open. Jughead is already passed out in his chair, head lolling back and mouth hanging open. Veronica blinks as she turns to Donna slowly. The words feel heavy in her mouth but she forces them out, “Donna? What . . . what is this?”

“Don’t fight it,” Donna says with a sigh. “For the record, you weren’t supposed to be here. It was just supposed to be Forsythe.”

Veronica can barely process what Donna’s staying before the darkness crowds in and she passes out. She doesn’t know how much time passes before Veronica wakes back up with a start. It’s dark and she’s laying in the wet grass. The rest of the Quill & Skull are standing around her with drinks in hand and music softly playing. Donna is the first one to notice that she’s awake, “Hey there, sleeping beauty.”

“Oh good, she’s awake just in time,” Bret says, draping an arm around Donna’s shoulders. Veronica follows his line of sight towards the mound of dirt only a few feet away from them. Veronica’s stomach drops as a spike of fear runs through her. “Forsythe is finally going through his own initiation. Should be fun to watch, Lodge.”

A knocking sound echoes through the mound of dirt and Veronica scrambles over to it on hands and knees. Her hands hover over the dirt, shaking as the knocking gets louder followed by muffled screams. Veronica’s mouth drops open in horror. She looks over her shoulder and shouts, “Did you bury Jughead  _ alive _ ?!?!”

“He’ll be fine,” Bret says, rolling his eyes. “He’s not the first member to be buried alive.”

“Fucking psycho,” Veronica hisses before turning back to the mound of dirt. She starts to dig, hands desperately moving the dirt out of the way. It’s loosely packed and easy to dig through. She moves enough of it that Jughead’s pounding on the coffin shakes the rest of the dirt out of the way. Veronica can feel tears pooling in her eyes as the coffin opens a fraction of an inch. “Jughead!”

“Veronica?” Jughead’s muffled voice comes from the coffin. She wraps her hands around the wood and helps him to open the coffin, dirt spilling over her legs as he sits up with a gasp. “Fuck!”

Veronica can’t help the sob that bursts from her mouth as she lunges forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. He wraps an arm around her waist, covering the back of her head with the other hand. He presses his face into her neck and lets out a wet sigh. They cling to each other, breathing in each other’s scent and crying and ignoring the audience that surrounds them.


	5. BLUE - peace/trust/grief/remorse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay here's the thing: i think i'm going to reformat this into a one shot cause i don't like the word count compared to the chapter count. annoying i know. but i'm gonna do it cause yeah. that works better for me? i will be saving everyone's comment on this fic as well. sorry? and thanks for reading!

“Stop avoiding me,” Jughead snaps as he bursts into Veronica’s dorm room a week after the coffin incident. Veronica looks up from her book with wide eyes but can’t find anything to say. “We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Veronica says, going back to her book and sinking further into her sea of pillows. “If you don’t mind, I’m behind on my reading for Haggly’s business course.”

“There is something to talk about,” Jughead insists, shutting and locking the door behind him. He sits down on the end of her bed with his back to her. Veronica is grateful for that small favor. She doesn’t think she can look him in the eye right now. “That night. With the coffin.”

“There’s  _ nothing _ to talk about,” Veronica insists. “Unless you have our next move on proving that the Quill & Skull is actually a murder club, of course.”

“You were crying,” Jughead continues like she hadn’t said anything. “You were crying like you’d lost someone important to you.”

“So what?” Veronica asks, snapping her book shut. Jughead’s shoulder hunch forward and Veronica feels a rush of guilt run through her. He’s the one who had a near-death experience and here she was lashing out because her feelings might get hurt. She makes herself sick sometimes. “It was a crazy night, Jughead, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

Jughead turns around and glares at her with wet eyes. Veronica tries to swallow the lump in her throat and sits up a little straighter, pulling her knees to her chest and putting more space between the two of them. Jughead swings his legs around and folds them under himself, leaning towards Veronica. 

“You saved my life,” Jughead continues. “You saved my life and cried over me.”

“Stop saying that!” Veronica snaps. “Stop talking about that night this way. None of that matters. Why don’t you get that?”

“Why don’t you get that it does matter?” Jughead snaps back. His hands curl into fists, pulling her comforter away from her legs and exposing her to his wet, green eyes. “It matters to me!”

“Why?!” Veronica screams. She’s sure that her voice can be heard in the hallways but she doesn’t care. “Why does anything that I do matter? It’s just  _ me _ and you’ve never cared before!”

Jughead’s face drops and he jerks back as if he’d been slapped. He looks genuinely shocked by her outburst and Veronica can’t stop herself from continuing, “You’ve made it perfectly clear that what I do and think and say has never mattered to you, Jughead Jones. So the hell does it matter now? What’s changed, huh?”

His face drops into something soft and tender that she’s only ever seen directed at Betty. How many times had she felt a spark of jealousy over that look? How many times had she yearned for it to be directed at her? And here it is, finally, and she hates it. She hates that it’s not something that she’s truly earned, that it’s the result of some bullshit initiation enacted by a group of teenage sociopaths. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Veronica hisses. “Don’t you dare look at me like that, Jughead Jones.”

He turns away from her with a huff and Veronica relaxes slightly. She should tell him to get out, to go call his girlfriend, to do anything other than lurk in her room while she deals with her own twisting and turning emotions. But she doesn’t, she can’t. As stupid as it is, she can’t turn him away, won’t turn him away. She can’t stand herself. 

“Betty broke up with me,” Jughead finally says and so many things make sense to her. “She didn’t really get into why she did it. But I knew it was coming. With being so far away and we’re both so caught up in our own things. We just weren’t connecting anymore.”

Veronica doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have anything to say. She can’t say that she’s doing any better relationship-wise. Though her and Archie had briefly reconnected after Penelope’s wild hunt in the woods, they hadn’t been the same. Not like they were before her father came to Riverdale back when it was just them having fun and falling in love. 

“I think the worst part of it all is that I wasn’t upset,” Jughead continues. He leans back on his hands and tilts his head back a little. It’s not enough for her to see his face and Veronica wishes that she could. “I had other things to worry about. Like the Quill & Skull and homework and . . . and you.” 

He turns back around, face still soft and sweet and so goddamn sincere. Veronica looks away from him, incapable of looking him directly in the face right now. So much about this morning has Veronica turning away, has her saying that she can’t. She never realized just how much of a coward she actually was until just now. 

Jughead sighs and keeps talking, “And then that night happened and it wasn’t thoughts of Betty or my dad that kept me sane while I trapped in there.” 

Veronica holds her breath but he’s not done, “It was thought of you. Of you laughing at me or making fun of me or calling me on my bullshit. It was the way your eyes grow distant sometimes like you’re not even there but you still manage to come back with a sharp retort or a keen observation that I never even realized. It was how hard you’ve worked to be better than your parents, to be better than the circumstances you were born into.”

Veronica knows that she’s probably crying by now. Tears of grief for all that time she spent thinking that he hated her. Tears of acceptance for what he’s actually saying, for the world she lives in where Jughead Jones might just care about her too.

“It was you, Veronica,” he says, voice low and tender like he’s telling her a secret. And maybe it is a secret that he’s kept for a while, a secret that he’s kept from everyone. “Then when I burst out and you were there, crying over me with your hands covered in dirt. That’s when I knew.”

“Jughead,” Veronica croaks out. It's a warning. That despite everything he shouldn’t continue, that they’re nearing that point of no return. “Please.”

“I just wanted you to know,” Jughead says with a sigh. He reaches forward and turns her wet face towards him so that he can look her in the eye. His thumb rubs her cheek, wiping away some of her tears. “I’m not asking anything of you, I swear. You deserved to know, okay?”

Veronica nods, licking her lips. Jughead glances at her mouth briefly but he makes no move to kiss her. She doesn’t know if she could handle it right now if he did. Instead, he pulls away and stands up, hands shoved into his pockets and eyes looking everywhere but at her. 

His confession is barely out there, floating in her room like mist. She can appreciate that he’s not asking anything of her, not expecting anything from such a grand declaration, but she feels like she should say something. She  _ knows _ that she should say something but she’s out of words, out of ideas. She’s an empty shell of what she had been before Donna drugged them and Bret buried Jughead alive. 

“Come by whenever you want to plan next steps,” Jughead finally says. There’s an air of defeat about him that Veronica doesn’t like but she knows she can’t heal. Not at this exact moment at least. “If you still want to take down the Quill & Skull, I mean. Well, you know what I mean.”

Veronica nods but still can’t make any words come out of her mouth. Jughead leaves a moment later, the door clicking shut after him echoing through the room. It sounds like the word  _ coward _ in her head and it produces a whole new round of tears from her. 

Veronica doesn’t know how much time passes after Jughead leaves and she finally manages to pull herself together. She cleans her face as best she can without taking a full shower and grabs her phone before leaving her room. She goes in the opposite direction from Jughead’s dorm, seeking out an empty lounge or classroom in one of the less used buildings just to have some semblance of privacy. 

The phone rings once before Archie answers with a cheerful, “Ronnie!”

“Hey Archiekins,” Veronica says softly, the nickname rolling off her tongue without her having to think about it. “I hope this isn’t a bad time?”

“I always have time for your calls, Veronica,” he replies with an earnestness that makes her want to cry again. “What’s wrong? You sound upset?”

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Veronica says slowly. She needs to talk to someone and no one in Riverdale accepted her without conditions like Archie Andrews had. “I don’t think I could handle it if you hated me, Archie Andrews.”

“Veronica,” Archie says in a wary tone. “I could never hate you. Never.”

“I love Jughead,” she says, voice cracking over his name. There’s a long moment of silence that rends Veronica in two. She bites her bottom lip, choking back the tears that have been pouring out of her for hours now. “Archie? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” he says, voice distant. He clears his throat. “I’m here but . . . you  _ love _ Jughead?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “I do.”

“And you’re telling me?”

Veronica chuckles a little, wet and sad sounding, before she answers, “There’s no one I trust more with this than Archie Andrews.”

“While I’m honored,” Archie says, voice returning to its usual pitch and tenor. “I’m going to have to say, though. I did not see this one coming. At all.”

“Tell me about it,” Veronica mumbles. Her chest doesn’t feel quite as tight anymore but she still feels like she’s on the verge of tears. “I’m a terrible person.”

“No you’re not,” Archie says with a sigh. She can see him in her mind’s eye perfectly, mouth turned down in a frown and brown eyes shining with sympathy. “You’re not, Veronica. You’re just . . . in love, I guess?”

“And you don’t hate me? For falling for your best friend?” Veronica asks, knowing that it isn’t fair of her to ask this. That Archie doesn’t know the full story, doesn’t know the full extent of Veronica’s feelings for Jughead or how long she’s felt this way. But she asks anyways because she needs to hear it, needs to know that she won’t be destroying everything. “For pushing you away when I transferred and calling you now with this?”

“Veronica,” Archie sighs, her name sounds so much sweeter when it comes from his lips. “Ronnie, you’re just as much my best friend as Jughead is. As Betty is. There’s nothing that you could ever do that would make me hate you. I promise.”

“You’re too good for me, Archie Andrews,” Veronica says. “Pureheart the Brave, indeed.”

“You know I hate that nickname,” Archie groans. They laugh together for a brief moment and everything feels lighter. The darkness of Stonewall, of Riverdale, doesn’t loom so heavy over their heads. “You know I only want you to be happy, Veronica.”

“Thank you, Archiekins,” Veronica says with a small smile. 

“And if Jughead is going to be the one to do that,” Archie says slowly. Veronica knows that Archie can’t hold a grudge, that he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, but she can’t help holding her breath as she waits for his judgement. “Then I support you. All the way.”

“You have no idea what that means to me,” Veronica says, blinking away tears again. She groans and dabs at her eyes with a delicate finger. “I need to get off the phone before I burst into tears again. All this crying is not good for my complexion.”

“You’re always beautiful, Ronnie, you know that,” Archie says and Veronica can hear the bashful smile in his voice. “Puffy face or no puffy face.”

“Archie Andrews!” Veronica says with a loud laugh that feels much more like herself. “Veronica Lodge does not get a puffy face when she cries.”

“Just like she doesn’t sweat when she works out,” Archie agrees with a laugh of his own. 

They say their goodbyes and Veronica promises to call him again when she’s not desperately seeking his approval of her love life. The walk to Jughead’s dorm is a short one, almost a jog if she’s being honest with herself. She knows she looks an absolute mess, hair falling out of it’s bun and face puffy from crying, but she doesn’t care. She knocks on his door with a shaking hand, trying to claw her hair back from her face as she waits for someone to answer. 

Jonathan opens the door with a raised eyebrow and a smirk when her face drops. He opens the door a little wider so that Veronica can see Jughead hunched over his laptop and calls out, “You have a guest, Forsythe.”

Jughead looks up with wide eyes at Veronica, mouth opening and closing without saying anything. Jonathan snorts and goes back to his desk to gather a few notebooks. He gives Veronica a  _ look _ as he passes her and says, “I’ll just give you guys some alone time. I have to meet Joan in the library, anyways.”

Veronica shuts the door behind her after Jonathan leaves and leans back against it. She tucks her hands behind her back and tries to calm herself down. Jughead hasn’t moved from his desk chair, hasn’t said a word but his eyes haven’t left her face either. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing that Veronica says. She flinches slightly. That’s not how she had planned on starting, not that she had a plan to begin with. “For how I’ve been acting.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Jughead says, voice low and croaking. He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. “It’s been a pretty wild few months.”

“That it has,” Veronica agrees. Her throat feels tight and she’s sure that she’s going to cry again but she pushes forward all the same. “And you should know - you have a right to know that I care, too, Jughead. I more than care. I -”

She doesn’t get the chance to finish the sentence before Jughead is rushing across the room and pressing his mouth to hers. It’s messy and desperate and almost painful but it’s the best thing Veronica has felt in months. She frees her hands and buries her fingers into his hair, opening his mouth with her tongue so that she can taste him properly. He groans and curls into her, hands gripping her waist and lifting her to her toes. 

Veronica feels a surge of peace rush over her as the hunger in their lips dies down to a sweet simmer. Tender presses of mouth to mouth and his hands sliding around to wrap his arms around her waist. Her insistent tugging on his hair loosens, arms sliding around his neck. She pulls away just enough to breathe in the minty musk of his aftershave and press her forehead against his. The corner of his mouth is quirked up into that arrogant smirk that always drives her crazy but in this new light, in this peaceful moment, Veronica thinks that it’s not so arrogant as it is blissful. 


	6. PURPLE - luxury/mystery/loathing/suppresion

“So I heard you finally snagged your man,” Donna whispers into Veronica's ear during homeroom. Veronica doesn’t react, doesn’t even look up from her notebook. “You could thank me, you know. It never would have happened without our little prank.”

“Burying someone alive isn’t a prank, Donna,” Veronica says quickly, still keeping her eyes down. “It’s torture and you know it.”

“Someone needed to put Forsythe in his place,” Bret says as he sits down on the other side of Veronica. “And we couldn’t exactly wait for you to use your more alluring charms.”

“No one was talking to you, Wallis,” Veronica says. She looks up from her notebook and stares straight ahead. “In fact, I don’t think I invited either of you to speak to me.”

“Aw, come on, Lodge,” Bret says and she can hear the smarmy smile in his voice. “I thought you were made of sterner stuff than this. Getting all testy and weepy over trailer park trash? What would your mafioso parents think?”

“Fuck you, Bret,” Veronica hisses, turning to look at him. His smirk just grows and Veronica hates that she gave him any kind of a reaction. Donna laughs a little under her breath and Veronica turns her glare to her. “And fuck you too, Donna. You’re both assholes.”

“Miss Gomez,” Mr. Biddle says from the front of the room. Veronica doesn’t bother looking repentant. She’s not. She meant what she said and she won’t apologize. “That’s four demerits for using foul language in my classroom and I expect to see you in detention this afternoon to drive the point home.”

“Of course, Mr. Biddle,” Veronica says with a sigh. She licks her lip and gathers her books together. “Can I go to the library? I’m not getting any work done here.”

Mr. Biddle rolls his eyes and waves her away, muttering, “I expect to hear from the librarian once you’re there. This is not an opportunity to skip class, Miss Gomez.”

“Of course,” Veronica says with a demure smile. “Thank you.”

She doesn’t spare Donna or Bret another look before leaving the classroom. The library is on the other side of the campus and Veronica knows she can stop by Jughead’s room on the way. It’s his free period, after all, and he’s not one to spend time outside of his room. Veronica crosse the campus at a jog just to make sure she doesn’t get into more trouble with Mr. Biddle than she already is. 

“Jug?” Veronica asks, not bothering to knock on his door. She jerks back and wishes she had though when she finds Jughead and Betty sitting on Jughead’s bed, hands clasped together between their nearly touching thighs. “Betty. Hi.”

Jughead pulls his hand away from Betty’s and rubs his palms along the thighs of his pants. Veronica doesn’t make eye contact with him. She can’t. She doesn’t want to see whatever is floating there. It’s bad enough seeing him and Betty so close together, she doesn’t need any sort of confirmation from him.

“Veronica,” Betty says, eyes jerking between Jughead and her. “I was just visiting, Juggie. Did you need something?”

The nickname grates on Veronica’s nerves and she clenches her books tight against her chest. She plasters on her best smile and shakes her head, “Not at all. Just wanted to see if he could look over my history paper one more time. I’ll just come back at a different time. Wouldn’t want to interrupt some much needed alone time.”

“Oh, V, no,” Betty starts, shaking her head and cheeks turning bright pink.

Veronica still won’t look at Jughead and she most certainly won’t give Betty the chance to explain, “Don’t worry about it, B. Off to the library, I go. Maybe swing by my room later for some much needed girl time? Ta!”

Veronica doesn’t give either of them the chance to say anything before swanning out of his room and slamming the door shut behind her. She spends the rest of the afternoon doing her own research about the Quill & Skull and actively avoiding any thoughts of Jughead Jones. She doesn’t find anything new but she does stumble on a blog that seems to be written by an alumni. She almost emails the link to a certain beanie clad investigator but thinks better of it. Instead she reads the entire page growing more and more horrified the further along she goes. 

Secret societies. Initiations gone wrong. Blackmail. Gaslighting. Hazing. The blog had it all and it all pointed at the Quill & Skull. Veronica doesn’t know if any of it is true, doesn’t even know what to do with the absurd amount of information that she’s absorbed but Jughead hasn’t come looking for her and keeping secrets has never been her speed. 

She prints out the more damning blog posts and heads back to her room to confront Donna. She’s Veronica Lodge and she’s tired of walking on eggshells around these people. 

“Shouldn’t you be in detention right now?” Donna asks without looking up from her laptop when Veronica comes into the room. “I highly doubt skipping out on detention will look very good for you.”

“Tell me about the Quill & Skull,” Veronica says, slamming the door behind her. Donna sighs and opens her mouth to answer but Veronica doesn’t let her. She slams the printouts that Veronica has from that blog on Donna’s desk, key smashing her laptop and ruining whatever Donna had been working on. “The truth of it, I mean. Not the PR bullshit that you and Bret keep feeding us. I want to know the real story, Donna.”

Donna takes her time reading through the printouts, mouth slowly inching up into a smile until she’s grinning like a cat who got the canary. Veronica waits with her arms crossed, patience slowly getting thinner and thinner as the minutes pass. After what feels like hours have gone by, Donna turns to Veronica and says, “You know this is bunk, right?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Veronica says, rolling her eyes. “Just tell me the truth.”

“Why? So you can go run off to snitch to Forsythe?” Donna replies. She rests her elbow on her desk, propping her chin up on her hand. “Do you honestly think we don’t know about your boy toy’s snooping?”

“He’s not my boy toy,” Veronica says through clenched teeth. 

“Funny how that’s what you latch onto,” Donna says, narrowing her eyes at Veronica slightly. “I can only assume that ponytail has come back into Forsythe’s life? The star-crossed lovers have finally found their way back to each other? Something along those lines?”

“What’s it matter?” Veronica hisses. “What does any of this matter to you?”

“I’m a writer, Lodge,” Donna says, leaning back in her chair. “And being a writer makes one a bit of a voyeur - I enjoy watching the stories around me play out. I’m sure if you asked Forsythe, he would tell you the same thing. You should ask him.”

“You’re very good at changing the subject, aren’t you?” Veronica asks, leaning a hip against Donna’s desk. Donna shrugs. “What do you want, Donna? What can I give you so that I can get the truth?”

“What truth is that?” Donna asks. “The truth about the book club or the truth about Forsythe?”

Veronica frowns and shakes her head as she answers, “Stop playing games. You know what I want to know.”

“How about we do a friendly trade?” Donna suggests. “I’ll give you everything that you want. About the Quill & Skull, about Bret, about me.”

“And in exchange?” Veronica asks through her teeth. She feels sick to her stomach. Something about this exchange feels wrong but she can’t pinpoint what it is. She’d walked into the room feeling so confident, so sure of this course of action but now that she’s staring into Donna’s baby blues that feeling is fading away. 

“Ask Forsythe about the tape,” Donna says simply. Veronica frowns in confusion. “Ask him about the tape and then tell me every detail that happens after.”

“You want me to confront Jughead about some stupid tape and then gossip with you about it?” Veronica asks with narrowed eyes. Donna nods once in confirmation with her cupie doll smile. “Why do I get the feeling that there’s something else going on here?”

“Because there is, Lodge,” Donna says with a sigh. “But talk to Forsythe first and I’ll gladly fill in the gaps for you.” When Veronica doesn’t move from the desk, Donna waves her away with one hand. “Off you go. I’m sure Ponytail is gone by now.”

Veronica exhales loudly through her nose before dropping her school work on her bed and spinning on her heel back out of the room. She knows it’s stupid to follow along with whatever Donna is planning but she doesn’t have much of a choice. There are no other moves and she’s not going to keep playing this game with Jughead on her side, not when she’s not 100% sure that he’s on her side as well. 

Donna was right though - Betty is gone when Veronica knocks on Jughead’s door again. He’s wearing his beanie and is pulling his Serpent jacket on when she steps through the threshold. Both items had been seemingly forgotten by him when they transferred but Veronica can only assume that Betty reminded him of who he actually was - the boy from the wrong side of the tracks in love with the girl next door. Definitely not the boy who kissed the Park Avenue princess only a few days ago like he was drowning and she was fresh air. 

“Veronica,” Jughead says softly, shoulders dropping in something that looks like relief. 

Veronica wonders briefly if he was going to go look for her but she pushes that thought away. He could have run after her when she first left his room but the fact of the matter is that he didn’t. He didn’t and no matter how soft his face goes when he looks at her that’s what matters. 

“What do you know about a tape from the Quill & Skull?” Veronica asks, not wasting any time. She doesn’t want to get into why she left his room in such a hurry before. She doesn’t want to get into anything about them at all. His face drops and Veronica knows that whatever this tape is, he never thought she’d ask him about it. “I’ve been told that it would be of some interest to me and that you’ve already seen it.”

“Who told you that?” Jughead asks, licking his lips. 

“Does it matter?” Veronica asks back, raising an eyebrow. Jughead won’t quite meet her eyes and it makes her stomach twist up in knots. “Just tell me what it is and why I would care.”

Jughead runs a hand over his face and tucks a hand into the back of his jeans. Veronica’s seen FP do the same move a hundred times before and wonders if he even realizes that he’s mimicking his dad. She crosses her arms and leans back against his closed door, waiting for the answer that Donna expects Jughead to give her. Just when her patience starts to wear thin, Jughead says, “They filmed us. Me and Betty. Your confession during two truths, one lie. Burying me alive. It’s all on tape.”

“And you’ve  _ seen _ these tapes?” Veronica asks, trying to swallow down the bile that’s crawling up her throat. Her eyes flit around the room, looking for the camera that she’s sure is hidden somewhere around here. It doesn’t surprise her that they would tape everything, that they’d gather whatever blackmail that they could. It’s the perfect play and one Veronica would have pulled had she been in their position. 

“Bret showed me the one of Betty and I,” Jughead says slowly. “Of the two of us . . . together.”

“I get the picture,” Veronica says, holding her hand up. The pieces are starting to fall in place for her and she feels like such a fool. “So you and Betty ending things? That had to do with the tape, didn’t it?”

“Something to do with it,” Jughead confirms with a grimace. He must see the wheels turning on her face because he’s quick to continue talking. “But it was inevitable. With us being so far away from each other. It was bound to happen.”

“And us?” Veronica asks because she’s a glutton for punishment, because she’s still trying to atone for being a mean girl in New York, for taking all of the luxury that she was raised with for granted, and what better way than forcing the boy you love to confess to never really returning those feelings? “Did the tapes have something to do with us?”

“Veronica,” Jughead breathes out. He looks away from her and it’s almost enough of an answer for her. She doesn’t want him to keep talking but Jughead Jones has never been one to do anything that she wants. “Bret showed me your confession from two truths, one lie. He said something about an even playing field and I didn’t question it.”

“Right,” Veronica says with a laugh. “It’s just Donna and Bret playing God with other people’s lives.”

“That’s giving them a bit too much credit, don’t you think?” Jughead asks with a frown. 

Veronica glares at him as she snaps, “Would you have ever kissed me if it weren’t for that stupid tape? If you didn’t know just how pathetic I actually am?”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic,” Jughead mumbles but Veronica doesn’t quite believe him. “That’s the last thing I think about you.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Veronica snaps. She runs a hand through her hair and shakes her head. “And I am playing right into Donna’s hands.”

“Donna?”

“Who do you think told me about the tape, Jughead? Don’t be obtuse,” Veronica says with an exasperated sigh. Veronica shakes her head and looks away from him, wrapping her arms around her stomach as some sort of weak barrier between herself and him. “I don’t think I should be here anymore.”

“I can walk you to your room,” Jughead offers, knowing full-well that’s not what she meant. “If you want, of course.”

“I don’t.”

“I wanted to kiss you,” Jughead says softly. It does nothing to soothe the ache inside of her. “I want to kiss you all the time.”

“Stop it,” Veronica says with a wet sigh. “Just. Stop.”

She doesn’t let him say anything else before leaving the room again. Whatever damage Donna wanted to enact was done and Veronica was tired. Stonewall was supposed to be different but instead she’s found herself wrapped in the same twisted games that she had been in Riverdale. She shouldn’t be surprised. What does surprise her is Bret stopping her in the hallway with a twisted smirk on his face. 

“I’m not in the mood, Bret,” Veronica says with a sigh. 

“You will be,” he says before lifting his hand and blowing a white powder in her face. Veronica coughs, inhaling the cloud of powder. The last thing she remembers is Bret’s smile and his hand on her chin. “Trust me, Lodge. You will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT'S A WRAP FOLKS. 
> 
> yes it's ending on a cliffhanger but just assume that s4 plays out relatively the same way with jughead faking his death. i did not really plan this one out at all so like. it is what it is. 
> 
> i also fully intend on rewriting this so that it's a one-shot and more cohesive. don't know what that'll happen but it'll happen at some point. 
> 
> for now - thank you for reading and commenting and leaving kudos. i truly appreciate it. <3


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